Stuck On You
by Amethyst Hunter
Summary: Ban and Akabane are made an offer they can't refuse. With a double-crossing client, the Undead, cops and angry mobsters alike after them, completing this mission will take every bit of strength they've got – if they don't kill each other first!
1. Surprise

Title: Stuck On You

Author: Amethyst Hunter

Rating: PG-13 (language, minor implied m/m)

Warnings/Spoilers: Minor ones for the Venus de Milo arc; key plot spoilers for the Jason Statham movie.

Notes: This is what happens when I watch Transporter 3 and Get Backers in the same weekend.

- The manga and anime use different translations for mafioso Ryuu Mouen's name; I'm going with the anime's version just 'cause I like it better.

Disclaimer: I do not own thine GBers. The song 'Barbie Girl' belongs to Aqua. The Transporter movie and its script and characters all belong to Luc Besson or whomever else created them. All references therein are used strictly for nonprofit amusement. Yay crackfic!

Summary: Ban and Akabane are made an offer they can't refuse. With a double-crossing client, the Undead, cops and angry mobsters alike after them, completing this mission will take every bit of strength they've got – if they don't kill each other first!

XXXXX

Ban Midou had woken up in a lot of odd places before. This was the first time he'd ever woken on the diving board of a swimming pool, and he knew damn well he hadn't been drunk in order to get here.

He struggled to sit up. His head felt woozy. A few minutes sitting upright and a good shake of the head seemed to clear some of it out. He reached up to rake his fingers through his hair and that was when he felt something metallic bump his forehead.

"The hell?"

The bracelet – more a manacle, really – was plain, thick, and surrounded his wrist. The back of it was a bulky-looking thing, while the top part held a lighted display with variations of a color strip. Currently the visible section was green. The bracelet's ends fit snugly, with only the barest of seams to indicate how it fastened. There was no apparent lock. Ban tugged at it. It wouldn't budge. It was on there good.

Waking up at someone's swimming pool with a mysterious gadget attached to him without his consent amped up his unease factor considerably. He'd been in enough sticky situations in his lifetime to recognize the difference between the morning-after-party-blank and the deep-dog-doody-blank.

Ban tried to recall last night's events. He'd gone to the Honky Tonk. Shot the breeze with Ginji. They'd gone to a sidewalk stand to bum a few leftover hot dogs after Paul had refused them another tab. Lucked out and got not only food but free drinks from the proprietor...

Anything after that was coming up empty. His eyes narrowed. "Ginji?"

No answer. Ban looked around again at his surroundings. Whoever owned this joint was loaded, judging from the elaborate poolside décor. Mafia, he decided, studying the overwrought statues standing guard around the lush gardens. They loved that fancy expensive-looking crap. But which mobster called this outfit home?

He eased back along the diving board until his feet could touch concrete. Ban got up, testing his footing. Aside from some leftover fuzziness he felt all right physically. He heard a door open and turned around.

"Ahh. Our guest is finally awake."

Ban clenched a fist as he automatically assumed a fighting stance. "You," he hissed. "I thought they were raking you over the Aphrodite coals in the pen."

Ryuu Mouen – he of the infamous drug trade, late of Mugenjou's underworld – smiled magnanimously as he avoided his guest's stare and slid on a pair of sunglasses. "Call it early parole for good behavior."

"Yeah?" Ban studied the group of men – bodyguards, fellow yakuza – that had gathered around Mouen. Hard to tell if they were carrying firearms or not. Most likely. He wasn't sure he could make a break for it with these odds. "Who'd you bribe and what am I doing in your backyard?"

Mouen chuckled. He looked none the worse for wear from his stint in prison, his bald head gleaming in the sunlight. "The first is inconsequential. The second, I can answer. I'm hiring you."

"What?"

"I'm hiring you," Mouen repeated, "because you boast of your high success rate. A rate that upon investigation checks out, according to my sources. And because you owe me a great debt. I thought it fitting that you should be the one to return to me that which you once stole."

Ban stared at him, a sneer curling his lip. "I reserve the right to reject deadbeat clients. Especially poison peddlers. Find yourself another stooge." He remembered his extra addition, and held up his arm to show Mouen the bracelet. "I don't work for anybody who tags their hires like pets."

"On the contrary, Midou. I think this time you'll make an exception." Mouen smiled again, but there was no friendliness in it. If Ban could have seen his eyes, doubtless they were cold black stones in his face. "You're an expert on distraction, aren't you. Well, I've arranged it so that your focus will be better occupied carrying out my request. That transmitter guarantees your undivided attention."

Ban's eyes grew harder. "Explain."

"It's very simple." Mouen chuckled, and the group around him echoed in a quiet ripple of amusement. They had him and they knew it. "You are the retriever, I am the client, and whoever has the money makes the rules. Mine are easy. You will travel to Fukuoka to pick up a delivery I'm expecting, and return it to me in Shinjuku."

Mouen snapped his fingers and a pet thug stepped forward. He was holding a large padded manila envelope, which he handed to Ban, who – after seeing the way some of the other yakuza fingered their respective weaponry in warning – reluctantly accepted it.

"In there you'll find complete instructions, including an itinerary, expense fund, and the addresses you'll require." Mouen paused. "I've also taken possession of your cellular device. But not to worry. You'll get it back once you complete my assignment. In the meantime I've included one of my own in the envelope for you to use. The only number you'll be able to dial is my own. I had it preprogrammed." He smirked upon seeing Ban's ferocious glare. "After all, I can't have my employees wasting precious travel minutes on chatty phone calls."

"The transmitter," Ban prompted with a growl.

"Ah, yes." Mouen strolled around him, careful to keep a safe distance and avoid eye contact. "Your car has been fully prepped in anticipation of your journey. Full tank of gas, fresh oil, new tires...I even had the windshield wiper fluid checked. The transmitter on your wrist, Midou, is to ensure I have your complete cooperation. I will know where you are at all times. If you stray from your mission even just a little, all I have to do is send you a reminder of where you should be going and what you ought to be doing."

God, how he wanted to wipe that smug face across the pavement. Ban's scowl was pure stone as he eyed the former drug kingpin. "What kind of reminder?"

Mouen chuckled. So did his fan club. "Let's just say that there isn't enough upholstery cleaner in the world to repair the damage that will be done to your seats if you displease me."

He swept his arm in the direction of one of the outer buildings. "Your car is ready and waiting. Any questions before I send you on your way?"

"Yeah, I've got one." When Mouen looked at him, Ban said, "You want your ass original-recipe or extra-crispy when I come back to fry it?"

The mobster snorted, all pretense of friendly professionalism vanishing. "Get going. You don't have time to play at bad jokes. I want to see you back here in short order."

Bad jokes. That should be the territory of that ridiculous clown joker, Emishi Whassis-face. Who the hell did this asshole Mouen think he was fooling? He, Ban, was apparently stuck in the worst joke of all right now. Muttering under his breath all the various obscene scenarios of what he'd like to do to the bastard, Ban followed the trail towards the garage that Mouen's men were pointing him to.

"Oh, Midou, one other thing."

Ban resisted the urge to grind his teeth. He turned around and glared. "What?"

"Drive safely. I doubt you'll want to make use of the doctor's services if you have any accidents."

XXXXX

He was still trying to decipher that parting shot miles down the road. As he watched the towers of Shinjuku disappear in his rearview mirrors, Ban dug new furrows in his brow as he thought of the knowing way Mouen and his men had laughed. They were up to something, and he needed to figure it out fast before they sprang their trap. That the whole mission was an obvious setup had never been in doubt; what bitter end they had planned for him as Mouen's vengeance, Ban hadn't yet been able to come up with any clues as to its nature.

The more he pondered his situation, the angrier he got. Drugged and roped into a suicide mission, and worse, he had no idea what had happened to Ginji. He'd asked before driving off, and all Mouen had said was, "You can explain things to your partner once you return. He's probably still sleeping it off back at your little coffee shack." It could have been the truth. It could have been a lie. Either way, he had no means of contacting anyone to find out for sure.

He swore softly and hammered the steering wheel with a fist. "First chance I get I'm giving that scumbag an Evil Eye straight into hell."

"My, my. That sounds like it could be interesting."

The fey voice crooning near his ear didn't quite register at first. Then Ban looked up into the rearview mirror, thinking that he couldn't possibly have just heard what he thought he had, and instead of his own dazzling blue a pair of luminous purple eyes winked back at him over his shoulder.

"Hello," the smiling Akabane said.

Ban slammed his brakes and pulled the car over, swearing a solid racket amidst the startled horns of passing traffic. He leaped from the car and stormed to the other side, yanking open the door. "OUT!"

In the back seat, Akabane blinked as he righted himself from the sudden stop. His hat had fallen off and was mashed between his knees and the back of the driver's seat. "Beg your pardon?"

"_You heard me!"_ Ban roared. _"Get out of my car!"_

He waited with fists planted at his sides while a long, thin stream of hatless black unwound itself and slunk out from the back seat of the Ladybug. Kuroudo Akabane, the infamous Jackal, stood facing him with an arched eyebrow and no inclination to move out of the way. "Is something wrong?"

"Go play in traffic!" Ban snapped as he stalked around to the driver's side. "What the hell are you doing in my vehicle? The last thing I need is your skinny ass hitching a ride!"

"If you would allow me to explain – "

"Get out of here! I'm busy!" Ban started to get into the driver's seat and the passenger door opened again. "What do you think you're doing? I said get lost!"

He shoved at Akabane, who was attempting to get back inside the car. "Midou-kun, it's all right, I'm – "

"No it is not all right!" Ban got out again and went to drag his unwelcome companion away from his beloved set of wheels. "I'm a retrieval service, not a taxi one. You want to go road-tripping, do it on your own damn time! I don't ferry around homicidal physicians – "

He froze as Mouen's previous words suddenly slapped his mind into clarity. _Drive safely, Midou. I doubt you'll want to make use of the doctor's services if you have any accidents._

"Son of a bitch." Ban stopped pulling at Akabane's coat and stared at him. "He put you up to this. Ryuu Mouen. You've been hired to escort me to Fukuoka, haven't you?"

A pleased smile curved across Akabane's mouth. "That is correct."

Ban wasn't smiling. "Well, now I'm firing you. The only partner I use is Ginji." He jerked a thumb at the highway. "Take a hike, Jackal!"

Akabane shook his head. "Ginji-kun is not here right now, Midou-kun. He's currently resting in Shinjuku, so you'll have to make do with me. But I assure you, I will be a suitable traveling companion."

_Says who,_ Ban thought with a sneering lip. "How do you know where Ginji is?"

"I took him back to the Honky Tonk café at our client's request, of course," Akabane replied. "The poor dear was dead to the world, but that's not so surprising, considering what Mouen's spy dosed you two with. Pharmaceuticals are unfortunately very easy to administer improperly if one has only an amateur's knowledge of them."

Ban considered this. Jackal liked to bend and stretch the truth to suit his whims, but since Ban had known him he'd not yet caught the man in an outright lie. Besides, Akabane had a thing for Ginji, or more precisely, Ginji's lethal alter-ego, and unresponsive prey didn't trigger the transporter's deadly instincts. Odds were good that Ginji was right where Akabane had said he'd left him, in Paul's capable hands. That was a load off Ban's mind, at least.

But he still had a big problem. Two big problems, counting the black shadow that had attached itself to him without his finding out till now. Well, that was easily taken care of. He pushed Akabane aside and shut the passenger door. "Fine. That's all I need to know. Later, sucker."

He started to get into the car again and Akabane spoke. "I would advise against abandoning me here by the side of the road, Midou-kun."

"What's the matter, scared you'll get turned into road pizza if I'm not there to hold your hand while you cross the street?"

Unruffled, Akabane said, "You need me in order to fulfill your assignment."

Ban snorted. "In your dreams. Give me one good reason why you think I should haul your sorry butt cross-country."

Akabane smiled. He held up a wrist and tapped his gloved finger on an all-too-familiar adornment encircling his arm. Its green light matched the one emitting from Ban's own accessory.

His eyes fell shut. He really wanted to wake up out of this nightmare now. Ban thumped his forehead on the top of the car. "I. Do. Not. Need. This. Shit. Today," he groaned, more to himself than Akabane.

"Look on the bright side, Midou-kun. We'll have plenty of time to get to know each other better. They say that if you really want to learn about people, you should take a trip with them. Won't that be fun?"

"About as fun as having a colonoscopy with a rusty drillbit," Ban retorted. Then he paused. Maybe there was a way out of this mess. "Wait a minute. We've got the perfect toolkit handy." He looked at Akabane. "Gimme a scalpel."

Akabane frowned slightly. "Whatever for?"

"To pick my nose with, whaddya think?" Ban scowled. "Just give me one so I can cut these damn things off and we can each go our own ways. I'm surprised you haven't thought of that yourself."

To his great annoyance the transporter declined, shaking his head gently. "Oh, I'm sorry, Midou-kun. You are correct in assuming that that was my first reaction as well. But I cannot do as you ask."

"Why not?"

"Our mutual client was very specific about the terms of our engagement. Any attempts to tamper with or remove our accessories will result in some rather messy complications, I'm afraid."

Ban's look could have melted steel. "How messy?"

Akabane thought. "Messier than one of my Bloody Hurricanes, but not as thorough as an implosion lens."

"So we're dealing with something incendiary. I figured as much. Shit." A thought struck Ban then, and he said, "What else should I know about these things that that rat Mouen didn't bother to tell me?"

"I do not think it a good idea to wander too far from one another." Akabane came closer and touched Ban's manacle, holding his own alongside it. "These are sister devices. They can be programmed to maintain a tracking frequency with one another to prevent detonation, so long as the devices are not separated beyond a certain limit. I believe the number our client mentioned to me was in the vicinity of a hundred feet."

That explained the color monitor on the bracelets. The green range meant they were okay. Yellow, some risk; orange indicated the danger zone and red...well, that was self-explanatory. "Fuck," Ban groaned out as he sank into his seat. "I need this job like I need a hole in the head right now."

"If I may suggest," Akabane said, "perhaps we ought to resume our trip, lest our client take it upon himself to do exactly that to you. Which would, in all honesty, Midou-kun, disappoint me greatly."

"So sorry to put a crimp in your weekend plans," Ban grumbled. "Dying wasn't on my agenda either."

Undeterred, Akabane continued, coming around to take up residence in the passenger seat. "Unless I am mistaken, you have not yet identified what plot Ryuu Mouen has concocted. It may be that the only way to learn of it is to undertake this mission and discover clues along the way. So. What do you say...partner?"

Add Akabane's to the present list of faces whose grating smiles he'd most like to punch to dust, Ryuu Mouen's still earning the top slot. Ban slow-roasted him with a look. "All right. I guess I've got to go along with this charade. For now."

He pointed at Jackal. "But get this straight. This is my car. I'm the driver. We play by my rules. That means you get in, you sit down, and shut up. Don't do a thing till I tell you to, got it? No smiling, no helpful advice, and for damned sure no knifeplay!"

Throughout this tirade Akabane said nothing, merely blinked in minor surprise, as if puzzled to find himself the target of Ban's outrage.

"You screw this up for me, Jackal, so help me, I'll break every bone in your scrawny body faster than you can put on your own casts."

Ban shut his door and started the car.

"Fair enough," Akabane said. "But if I must adhere to your rules, I would like for you to abide by some of mine in return. Starting with that," he said, leaning over to pluck the cigarette that Ban had just been about to light from his mouth, and fling it out the open window in one swift strike.

"No smoking in the car. I don't like it, and it's unhealthy." Akabane patently ignored the death wish in two smoldering blue eyes that was being aimed in his direction. "If you must indulge your foul habit, kindly pull off to the side of the road and get out to do it."

A tic made one side of Ban's face jerk and twitch, but he found he didn't have words profane enough for what he was thinking. He put his lighter back in his pocket, put his foot on the brake and shifted the car into drive.

"Seat belt," Akabane suddenly prompted with a fresh smile. Naturally his own was already clicked into place. "Safety first, don't you know."

Ban thought about tossing the bastard out on his black-clad rear end and driving off without him anyway. Decided that getting blown up into bloody chum wasn't quite worth it. Still radiating acidic destruction at Akabane, he dragged the belt into place. Then he took his foot off the brake again and stomped the gas.

It was going to be a long drive.

XXXXX

TBC


	2. Driving Ban crazy

Stuck On You, ch. 2

They didn't even make it as far as Yokohama before trouble hit, in the form of one patrolman who was alert enough to catch the alarm tones of his radar when a white Subaru clocked twenty miles well over the posted speed limit. Pleased by the prospect of making his arrest quota and possibly earning a commendation from his superior, the officer flashed on his lights and sounded a siren as he chased down the offender.

"Aren't you going to pull over?" Akabane asked when Ban, instead of dropping his speed, pressed his foot harder on the gas.

"Ryuu Mouen says we have a deadline. I don't think he intends for us to stop and have tea and cookies with the cops, do you?" Ban said, keeping an eye on the lights steadily gaining on his rear. "At least it's only one cherries-and-blueberries, and on a motorcycle at that. I can lose him."

"He's closing in. He might call for backup if you persist," Akabane said. "Just pull over and let him write his ticket, and then we can be on our way."

"Nothing doing! Have you seen what those bastards charge for an impound? I've stretched that limit for the month, thank you very much."

"Well, if you would exercise some prudence and listen to Ginji-kun when he tells you not to park in the wrong spaces, perhaps you wouldn't have to part with so much money on a regular basis."

"When I want your worthless opinion I'll ask for it," Ban snapped. "Mouen said he knows where we are. I'm not risking my neck for a stupid traffic ticket that I'm not going to pay for anyway."

The policeman drew closer. They could see his tinted visor in the rearview mirrors. "You do realize that you're only making it harder on yourself in the long run," Akabane said. "A criminal record is not so easily erased, unless, of course, you happen to be on good terms with Makubex-kun. He could probably expunge your slate if you ask him nicely – for a fee, I'm sure. Possibly one larger than that of your impending ticket. Either way, you'll have to give up your hard-earned money if you wish to continue enjoying your freedom." He shrugged. "It's your choice as to which of the two evils is least satisfactory to you."

Ban cursed softly. Makubex wasn't above calling in favors when he felt like it. And Ban liked going into Mugenjou even less than he did a jail cell. But jail in this case wouldn't have served any better, and if he were taken too far from Akabane...

"All right, but I do the talking. You just shut up and look pretty," Ban ordered, as he took his foot off the gas and let the car coast into slower gear. "Just pray that Mouen doesn't get an itchy trigger finger!"

They pulled over. The cop was still on his cycle, behind them, preparing to read the official riot act. "Come on, come on, speed racer," Ban hissed. "Let's get this over with."

"He's probably checking the plates to see if we're wanted for anything. Like murder," Akabane said cheerfully.

"Shut up. I'm thinking. We have to make sure he doesn't get suspicious." He poked Akabane. "Lose the hat."

Akabane's eyebrow did a caterpillar bend, its slender line inching up. He'd put his hat back on after Ban had allowed him to stay in the car. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Off with it. Cops don't like not being able to see who they're dealing with. You hide under that umbrella, it's gonna make him suspicious."

"I doubt that. Your delay in pulling over is what will have him most interested," Akabane said. "He's going to ask you why you didn't immediately slow down when he put his lights on. You were speeding, after all."

"Oh, like you're such a paragon of law-abiding citizenry, Sir Jackal of Homicide," Ban retorted. "Take that stupid hat off before I rip it off myself."

Akabane clutched his favorite adornment with one hand, glaring at him. "I most certainly will not. And you had best think twice about performing any action you may not live to regret."

"Yeah? I'm terrified," Ban drawled. His hand shot out to snatch the offensive headcovering away, but before his fingers could close over the brim, movement in the mirrors caught his notice. "Shit! He's coming over. Take it off, Jackal!"

"No."

"Do it!" Ban hissed.

Akabane remained firm. "Forget it."

"You irritating son of a - " But that was all Ban could get out before a fist was rapping on his window. He pasted a tight smile on his lips and rolled down the window, his eyes shooting poison arrows at Akabane that warned him to behave. "Hey, officer, what can I do you for?"

The cop didn't smile back. "Sir, you were running twenty over the posted signs. Why didn't you slow down and pull over when I flashed my lights at you?"

_I told you so,_ Akabane mouthed discreetly at Ban.

"Well, officer, you're right, I was going too fast and you got me," Ban said as ingratiatingly as he knew how. "But I have a good reason, I swear. See, my friend here - " he nudged Akabane's shoulder - "his wife is having a baby in Nagoya, and we just got word that she's gone into labor, so I promised my pal I'd get him to the hospital in time to see his firstborn enter the world."

Ban smiled at the guy, willing him to accept the story, issue the ticket (or, preferably, a warning instead) and go on his way. But fate wasn't giving them the hook-slip so easily.

The cop's pen hovered over his notepad. "Oh, really? Which hospital are you going to?"

Ban looked at Akabane, but when the transporter stayed silent, it fell to him to provide the details. "Ah – the main one, you know." He fished in his head for a plausible-sounding name. "Shibukawa Central."

The pen descended onto the notepad. "Hmm. My sister lives in Nagoya. I don't remember her ever mentioning that hospital before."

"It's a new one, I think they just built it," Ban said. His jaw was aching from the strain of forced pleasantry.

"Mm. Boy or girl?"

"Huh?"

"Your friend's wife. Is she having a boy or a girl?"

Again Ban looked to Akabane; again the other man said nothing. "She's keeping it a surprise," Ban mumbled, turning back to the cop with an increasingly nervous grin. "Um, so...what do you say?"

The pen scratched across the paper and the cop tore off a section, handing it to him without a blink. "Penalty for each section of the limit that you went over, and two extra for not pulling over right away. You can pay that at our downtown office within sixty days before we issue a warrant after you." He tipped his helmet at Akabane. "Good luck to your wife." To Ban, he said, "Drive carefully, sir, and have a nice day."

"And you thought my hat was going to be the problem," Akabane chuckled for Ban's ears as soon as the cop had gone back to his bike. He waggled a gloved fingertip. "Tsk, tsk."

"You moron." Ban glared at him, crumpling the citation in his fist. "You could have said something! Instead you just sat there like a big lump of coal!"

"I thought that you wanted me to stay quiet," Akabane said. "Weren't those your exact words to me right before we stopped? 'Shut up and look pretty, Jackal.'" His lips formed a sensuous pout. "You know, it wouldn't kill you to act more polite if you wish to ensure my cooperation."

"_You_ stow away in _my_ car and _I_ should be more polite?" Ban's jaw spasmed as he sought words vile enough to convey to Akabane exactly what the transporter ought to do with himself and a rusted chainsaw.

He thought he'd formed a suitably grotesque reply when fresh movement in the rearview mirror stopped him. The cop was coming back.

"Oh great, now what does he want?" Ban pasted on his best die-in-a-fire-now smile and waited.

"Sir, were you aware that you have a broken taillight?" the cop told him.

"What?" That jerk Mouen, he'd said he'd had the car looked over.

"Right rear taillight," the cop said. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to issue you another citation for that. It's a safety hazard."

"Sure, why not. Pile it on with the rest of my shit sandwich," Ban muttered, no longer caring whether the guy heard him or not.

In the next moment, however, he wished his brain-to-mouth filter had been engaged, because something in his tone must've triggered the cop's suspicion. He peered over the tops of his sunglasses at the two men inside the Subaru and studied them as he handed over the second ticket. "Hey. Don't I know you?" he said, upon catching a glimpse of Akabane's face beneath the big black hat.

Ban had to hand it to him, Jackal didn't flinch. "I travel to Nagoya on business quite frequently. Perhaps you've seen me around town," Akabane said smoothly.

"Yeah? What business are you in?"

"Acquisition and transport."

The cop nodded slowly, digesting this. "I'm sure you two fellows won't mind if I ask to see some ID," he said after a minute. "Just a formality, you understand."

"Not at all," Akabane said, reaching into the breast pocket of his coat and withdrawing a sleek black wallet, from which he extracted a card and passed it over. Ban grudgingly did the same, hauling out his tattered wallet and fishing from a well-worn slip his own ID.

The cop looked at the cards, then at them. "Excuse me a moment. This'll only take a second."

"What do you wanna bet he comes back and asks for our star signs next?" Ban grumbled quietly while the cop returned once more to his motorcycle. He spotted Akabane undoing his seat belt and reaching for the passenger door handle. "What are you doing? Sit down!"

Akabane paused with one hand on the handle. He gave Ban a censorious look. "In about ten seconds he's going to run those IDs on his computer and pull up your history of unpaid fines. Including, I believe, the citation you were issued in Yokohama three months ago for failing to appear in court on petty charge for damages to a parking meter, a measure which has doubtless earned a warrant on your name." Akabane shook his finger at Ban. "You really ought to be more careful about what you post on your Facebook, Midou-kun. Why, anyone with a working knowledge of search engines could turn up all sorts of interesting tidbits about you."

"You Googled me?" Bloody freak. Ban hosed him with a glare. "What do you think you're gonna do now?"

"Correct the problem before we are detained needlessly, of course." Akabane opened the door and started to step out.

"You idiot!" Ban grabbed his arm and yanked him back into the seat. "You go out there and make trouble, he's gonna start shooting at us!"

Akabane suppressed an impatient sigh. "Do you want me to help, or not?" he snapped.

"I want you to cut me some slack here. Is that too much to ask?" Ban shot back.

Akabane frowned. "I'll take that as a yes. But I'll thank you not to complain about my methods in the meantime when it happens to be your mess that I'm cleaning up after," the transporter finished archly as he pushed the door open and slid from the seat in one fluid motion.

Ban started to yell at him, demand he elaborate on that sinister statement, when motion in the mirrors flashed. The cop had noticed their row and had gone into alert, drawing his pistol from its holster and preparing to bark out an order. "Oh shit - "

Instinct propelled him to duck down and avoid the shot that was coming, but black shadow swirled behind the cop in the next eye-blink, and then the guy was falling, dropping face down like a cold stone. The unfired gun hitting the pavement was the only sound that echoed.

"You stupid maniac! What've you done!"

Akabane ignored the insult and made several more swipes of his hand. The motorcycle collapsed into a pile of rubbish. He traipsed back to the car and got inside, rebuckling his belt without a second glance backward at the mayhem he'd just completed.

Ban stared at him.

Akabane looked up, his face the perfect picture of innocence. "Well? What are you waiting for?"

"You just whacked a cop, for crissakes!"

Akabane shrugged. "He was going to shoot at me."

"Because you were getting out of the car!"

"Would you rather have gone to jail and been blown up because we were booked in separate cells?" Akabane reached up and straightened his hat. "Let's go."

Ban stomped the gas and the car veered back onto the road in a scream of stinking rubber. "I can't believe you just did that! You psycho! Cops keep cameras for roadside stops, they can identify us on the tape - "

" - If they were to find it," Akabane interjected calmly, holding up a small piece of equipment that had been concealed in his hand until now. "I took the liberty of removing the pertinent data. And I retrieved our respective identifications as well," he added, flicking into view from between the fingers of his other hand the cards he and Ban had given the cop. "Goodness, how on earth do you think I've managed to do so well for myself as a transporter without critical attention to detail?"

"Devil's luck," Ban growled through clenched teeth. "Give it!" He snapped his fingers for his ID.

"Ah, ah. What do we say when we want something?"

Ban's hand shot out and gripped an alabaster throat, squeezing just shy of the snapping point. "Fork it over, asshole!"

Akabane blinked, but relinquished the card. When Ban let go of his neck he replaced his own in his wallet. "You could do with some anger management courses, if you don't mind my saying so," the Jackal said stiffly, straightening the shirt collar and tie that Ban had just mussed.

"Manage this." Ban pointed a middle finger at Akabane. "God. I can't believe you killed that guy over a stupid traffic ticket!"

"A ticket that was your doing in the first place," Akabane tartly reminded him. "And who says I killed him? You're awfully quick to assume the worst of me when I've given you no reason to. Have you forgotten so soon about our mutual client's coercion?"

Ban took his eyes off the road and the group of traffic he was trying to weave through, processing what Jackal had just said. "But – the bike – the cop, you just nailed him - "

Akabane lifted a white-clad hand and slanted it, gently tapping the side of what could have been a vicious judo chop to the back of Ban's neck. "Pressure point. Strike hard enough and the victim instantly loses consciousness for a short while. He'll live, he'll just awaken with a nasty headache when he regains his faculties. By then we shall be well away from this area." Akabane gave him a curious look. "Really, Midou-kun, I do have some respect for the law."

_Maybe when it suits you,_ Ban thought, eyeing the other man warily. Jackal could be so mercurial in his moods. "How'd you disable the bike?"

"A few properly applied manipulations at strategic construction points. Maguruma taught me how to do it in case it becomes necessary to dissuade pursuers on the runs that we make."

"Hn. Wouldn't have figured you'd take lessons from No-Brakes. He lets his quarry live."

"Not always." At the scowl Ban gave him, Akabane continued. "Well, you know how protective he is of his vehicles..."

"He doesn't get off on killing like you do."

"No," Akabane agreed, and here his face took on a sly conspiratorial cast as he leaned slightly closer to Ban, as if they were old chums sharing playful secrets. "But Gouzou has been known to...severely educate...those who do not respect his rules of the road."

Akabane settled back in his seat, posing primly with hands folded neatly on his lap. "A word of advice, Midou-kun. If he ever asks you if you'd like to see his vintage 1963 Ferrari sports convertible, for heaven's sake, do not, I repeat, do not so much as breathe a whisper upon it."

Ban snorted. "Why, big man'll burst into tears if I mess up his precious toy?"

"No, you will." Akabane leaned even closer to him and murmured his next words. "Once, I was eating an ice cream cone while standing next to the thing watching him polish it. He saw me and said, 'Jackal, so help me Zeus, if you get that crap on my car you're cleaning it up yourself.' I was only joking with him, and I said, 'Oh really, Gouzou?' I pretended to tip my cone and act as though a bit of vanilla would have dripped off, but the ice cream was too soft and the entire scoop fell and splattered the side of the car."

Ban rolled his eyes. "Bet that pissed him off."

Akabane arched a brow. "He made me suck up all the mess...with my nose."

The transporter sat back, nodding in all seriousness at Ban's disbelieving glare.

"The deadly Jackal being cowed by a taxicab pusher? You have knives, for crying out loud!"

"It's true. Ask him sometime, he'll tell you." Akabane pouted again. "He laughs when he gets to the part where he planted my face in the tire."

Ban let out a coarse laugh of his own. "You freaks never cease to shock the hell outta me," he muttered, turning his gaze back to the road.

"I've never experienced an ice cream headache like that in my whole life, and I hope never again to," Akabane said.

"And I thought Ginji could be a childish twit."

"Speaking of childed things, what sort of cheap excuse was that for you to give to our would-be arresting officer?" Akabane huffed quietly. "Having a baby, indeed. That's the oldest lie in the book for speeding. How utterly unimaginative for a man with the renowned Evil Eye!"

"At least I was thinking, trying to cover our asses," Ban growled. "You just sat there all tall dark and creepy. I told you that damn hat raised his watch!"

"You wish me to speak up? Very well, then," Akabane said sweetly. "The next time we are pulled over because of your erratic driving, I shall tell the police that I am the notorious killer Doctor Jackal, and you are my intimate accomplice." He smirked.

Ban knew he'd do it too, just to be a bastard. He bared fangs at Akabane. "Never mind!"

That grating little chuckle, the one that always made his hair stand up on end and his nerves twitch a jitterbug. "Oh, do lighten up, Midou-kun. We're just having some fun. Aren't we? Hmm? Aren't we?"

Well, one of them was. But it sure wasn't him, Ban thought sourly. "Thank whatever benevolence exists that you haven't reproduced," he mumbled to himself. Now there was some serious Jagan material...!

Jackal heard him and chose to needle the subject further. "Actually, sometimes when I watch Ginji-kun, I think about what it might be like to have children. It would be a different change of pace," he mused aloud. "A son might be nice. I could teach him the ropes of transporting." A feline smile curved those slim lips suddenly. "But I think I would like to have a little girl first, so that when she comes of age, I can have the pleasure of eviscerating every degenerate male that tries to ask her out on a date."

Ban bit his lip and counted silently to ten before replying. "Do me a favor? Keep your twisted filial plans to yourself!" he ordered amidst another of Akabane's demented giggles, as they sped on towards the waning daylight of Nagoya.

XXXXX

The inn they stopped at for the night was thankfully sparse in activity. Ban checked the travel itinerary Ryuu Mouen had given him and confirmed that this place was on their list. He hoped fervently that the joint had hot showers and full refrigerators. His back ached almost as much as his stomach did and he wanted most right now to fill his face, clean up and sleep, not necessarily in that order.

"Mouen bother to stuff any of our luggage in the car?" he asked Akabane.

"Mm. I'm afraid not."

They'd have to make do with the same clothes. Maybe the place had a laundromat. "Let's go. I'm starving." Ban pointed a finger at Akabane as they got out of the car. "Remember. Stay close." He tapped his bracelet for emphasis.

"And here I thought all this time that you just enjoyed my company that much," Akabane drawled. But he fell into step behind Ban.

They checked in at the front desk and got their room key. Ban chose to ignore the knowing look the teenaged clerk sent in his direction when he asked for a single suite rate and concentrated instead on keeping Akabane in line. "No phone calls. I don't want to rouse Mouen before I'm ready," he said in a low voice as they padded along the corridor leading to their room. "You want to use their laundromat?"

"I should think my things will suffice another day before requiring laundering."

Ban decided his clothes could wait too, it'd save money that way. "Fine. Now look, we get in there and we stay put the rest of the night. No wandering."

"I'm not a canine, thank you, so you may cease ordering me about," Akabane sniffed over his shoulder while Ban fumbled with the key in the door lock. "Here, you're doing that wrong. You need to twist the handle right after you insert the key."

"I know what I'm doing," Ban snarled. Still, the door wouldn't budge. He jammed the card key into the slot and tried again. The light remained red instead of flashing green. He swore softly.

"Oh, for bloody blue blazes - " Akabane's patience dwindled with each of Ban's failed attempts to open the door, and he finally pushed the other man out of his way and snatched the card key. "It goes like this."

He swiped the card key through the slot device while pushing on the handle at the same time. The lock clicked apart and the door swung open. "See how easy that was? You make everything more complicated than it needs to be, I swear."

Ban grabbed the card key back and shoved it into his pants pocket, muttering epithets involving Akabane and a cement mixer under his breath as he stalked past the transporter and flicked on a light switch – and stopped up short when he saw their room.

It was a simple enough dwelling. It had a miniature refrigerator, a television set, lamps, bathroom, and chairs. And, of course, a bed.

"Is something wrong, Midou-kun?"

_A_ bed. One. Single. Bed. With two pillows.

"Midou-kun?"

A BED!

XXXXX

TBC


End file.
